DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are
the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2009 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
New Girl
by
Djinn
"Who
is that?" Jim asked McCoy. He was
watching Chapel, who was walking through sickbay liked she owned it.
"Chapel. Christine.
Nurse.
Was looking for her fiance until she found out
he was screwing his lab assistant."
McCoy tried to guess what had attracted Jim's interest, other than the
way she was wearing her uniform or the blonde hair or the bright blue eyes
or... Shit, he had it bad. "And her fiance was taking credit for
her work--she's a paper short of a PhD, Jim.
A paper short because her original research found its
way into his papers, so she looks like the plagiarist unless she does more
research."
"Not
good. So, which infraction ticked her
off more? Being cheated out of or
cheated on?"
"Not
entirely sure. Why don't you go ask
her?" Not that he wanted his friend
to plow a field he'd been trying to get access to for weeks now. But he was sort of curious to see if Jim had
any better luck with her than he'd had.
"Think
I will." He grinned at McCoy, the
sardonic "here I go again" Jim Kirk grin. "Wish me luck."
"I
don't think so."
Jim
stopped and turned. "Do I detect
interest?"
"You
can detect whatever the hell you like."
"Bones, come on. Do
you want this woman? Because I'm sure I
can help." He was laughing.
"Not
a damn charity case, Captain. Do just fine on my own."
Jim
held up his hands and backed away slowly.
He turned and made his way--half saunter, half stroll--over to where
Chapel was filling up hypos. McCoy moved
so he could hear the conversation.
"Hello,
there. I'm the captain."
She
barely looked at him. "Amazingly,
sir, I know that."
Jim
took the first hit in stride. "Just wanted to welcome you personally. Nurse Chapel, is it?"
"Yeah,
I've heard about that." She met his
eyes. "Also
amazingly, not interested." She went back to work.
"I
meant on a professional level."
"Oh. My mistake." Her voice was like honey and whiskey with a
big dose of yellow jacket mixed in.
"Thank you, sir. Consider me
sufficiently welcomed."
Jim
clearly had nothing else. He walked by
McCoy and made the sound of a shuttle careening through low atmo
and then crashing. "All
yours, my friend."
McCoy
walked over to her. "Civility
not in your lexicon, nurse?"
"I
was civil. I just wasn't
friendly." She handed him the
carton of full hypos. "Make
yourself useful, okay?"
As
he walked away to store the hypos, he quietly mimicked Jim's crash sound.
---------------
The
planet was bustling and smelled like a dog run on a hot Georgia day in
August. McCoy glanced over at Chapel,
who was making a beeline for one of the side streets.
"Where are we going?"
"Doctor,
I have no idea where you're going, but I am going down here."
"I
thought I told you to call me Len, Chris."
He hurried to catch up with her.
Those legs of hers that went on for miles could cover miles, too.
"I
thought I told you to call me Nurse Chapel."
"You
did. I'm notoriously difficult to train.
"
"Really? How profoundly
surprising." She turned into
a doorway that led down a dank hallway.
"Do
you have any idea where you're going?"
"Yep." Three knocks, a pause, then two more. The door cracked open. She held a wrapped package out, and whoever
was behind the door grabbed it. Then a padd was pushed through.
Chapel seemed to be checking what was on it, then
nodded. "Tell him thanks."
"Tell
him yourself," was the muffled reply as the door closed.
She
stuffed the padd into her carryall and turned, but
McCoy grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him.
"Do
I want to know what's on that?"
"My
research. Roger's research that is based on my
research. And someone else's research I
plan to replicate with his permission.
Do you have a problem with this?"
Her tone implied she would not care if he did.
He
let her go. "This is not the nicest
place."
"Well,
I'm not the nicest girl." She left
him in her dust, long legs carrying her far away.
-----------------
The
chime on McCoy's door came sooner than expected. She stormed in as soon as he told the
computer to open the door.
"You're
an asshole."
He
laughed. "Yeah, I am." He gestured to the chair across from
him. "If you want that extra laboratory
time that I just denied, then you'll have dinner with me."
She
crossed her arms over her chest. "This is blatant sexual harassment."
"Dinner,
not anything else. You're on my staff and you won't let me
in. I have a right to know what kind of
person I'm dealing with."
"You're
right. You do." She walked over, sat down across from him,
reached in, and hit his intercom. "Chapel to Spock."
"Spock
here."
"Sir,
is that offer of time in the lab still open?"
"Of
course, Miss Chapel. I would be
most pleased to facilitate your research."
There was a long pause. "Oh,
and Nyota would like to know if you are free for
lunch tomorrow."
"Tell
her I'm cheap but never free."
There was a long silence.
"That's
a yes, Spock."
"Ah. Understood...somewhat. The lab is free if you wish to use it now."
"Wonderful. Thank you so much." She turned the intercom off. "Know this about me. I don't react well to bribery. I've had one trusted adviser turn into more,
and it didn't work out so well for me.
So there will be no dinners, no drinks, no socializing, no
anything. Are we clear?"
He
nodded.
"You
appear to be a good doctor. I'm enjoying
working in your sickbay. Let's leave it
at that, all right, Len?"
"Fine."
She
got up and left, and it took him five minutes of
staring at his uneaten feast to realize she'd finally called him by his first
name.
-------------------
"What's
this?" She was standing at the door
to his office, tapping a padd.
"My
research, someone else's, too, who is amenable to letting you incorporate it
into your dissertation."
"This
is very useful."
He
grinned. "That was the idea."
She
walked in, shut the door, and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "Why?
Is this another attempt to--"
He
held up a hand. "I was out of line with the dinner
thing. I'm sorry. I'm just...used to people opening up to
me. I guess it drives me a little nuts
that you won't."
She
leaned back and sighed, and for once the wary look she always wore dropped
off. "Len, there are a lot of women
on this ship who would love to be having this conversation with you. I don't know if you're aware or not, but
you're deemed quite the catch."
"Really?" He found himself grinning. His harpy of an ex had seriously shaken his
confidence when she'd left him.
"Really." She picked up a paperweight he'd gotten from
his father when he graduated from med school, played with it absently. "You should set your sights on
them."
"You're
assuming I've set my sights on you?"
She put the paperweight down and met his eyes.
"I'm wounded and bitter, not stupid."
"Right." He looked away. "I'm a little wounded and bitter, too,
you know? Jocelyn ran me through the ringer."
"Did
she cheat on you with her lab assistant?"
"No,
she cheated on me with my lab
assistant." He shot her a rueful
glance. "So I do know how it
feels." He leaned back, studied
her. "She took a lot from me. Including my daughter. So I can kind of relate to your research
problem, too. It's
hell to have someone you love betray your trust."
"Yes,
it is." She was looking down, and
he realized she might be crying, so he waited.
Finally, she looked up, and he was surprised to see her eyes were dry. "I want to go out and find him...and
then kill him."
He
laughed at her tone and at the chagrined fierceness in her expression. "I'm pretty sure Starfleet frowns upon
murder."
"Yeah. Me, too." She stood up, brushed off her uniform as if
she'd been eating something messy.
"Well, then, the best I can do is not look for him. Let him
rot out there."
"There
you go. Death by lack
of attention."
Her
grin was bitter. "I know what that
feels like. It'll do."
-------------------
"Doctor
McCoy," Chapel collided with his chest hard, her arms twining around his
neck, the smell of twelve-year-old Scotch heavy on her breath.
"Nurse
Chapel." He tried to undo her
arms--before she could tell how much this unexpected proximity affected him--to
no avail. "Chris?"
"I,
Len, am drunk." She was laughing,
and it was a nice sound, would have been nicer, though, if it hadn't been
fueled by hooch.
"I
can tell." He moved her out of the
way of traffic, to a quiet corner of the starbase
lounge. "And you also appear to be
alone."
"Ny and Jan were here.
And it was nice and fun, but then they left, and I kept
going." She nuzzled his neck. "But now you're here, so I'm not alone
anymore."
"Damn
it, Chris. Stop it." He pushed her away, and she looked at him
with a hurt look.
"You
wanted this." She reached down,
gripping a part of him that most assuredly did want her. "See, tell me
you don't want it."
"Knock
it off, Nurse." He reverted to the
voice he rarely had to use, and never with her.
"In this order: we are going
to the ship, you are going to take some antitox, and
then you are going to sleep this off. Oh
and first, you are going to unhand me."
Even if it felt so damn good to have her touching him.
She
let him go. "I hate you. I hate you so much."
"Yeah,
well it's nothing compared to how you'd feel about me if I don't do this. Now, come on." He pulled her after him, noticing that for
once he outpaced her--those long legs apparently didn't work so well when she
was filled with alcohol.
He
made them stop at sickbay so he could load her up with antitox,
and then he escorted her back to her quarters.
She walked in without a word or glance.
"Goodnight,
Chris," he said to the closing door.
---------------
"I'm
sorry," Chris murmured as she walked by him in the narrow corridor running
to the inventory room.
"For
what?" He tried to keep his voice casual, a
"nothing happened, move it along" voice.
She
smiled, and it was a smile full of something that wasn't bitter or defensive or
any of the things he was used to.
"We both know one of the benefits--or downsides, depending on your
perspective--of antitox is no memory loss." She moved closer. "I remember exactly what happened last
night--and what didn't happen. Thank you
for both parts."
"Just
doing the right thing."
He smiled gently.
"The
right thing is, in my experience, often in short supply." A quick touch on his hand and she was gone.
"Bones? You back here?" Jim was grinning like a fool. "You will not believe what Starfleet has
for us next." He glanced back the
way he'd come. "The ice queen: she
seems warmer. She
fixing her hair different or something?"
"I
hadn't noticed."
Jim's
eyes narrowed. "You
sly dog, you." He
laughed. "So, how is she?'
"I
wouldn't know, Jim."
"Seriously?"
McCoy
nodded.
"Hmm. Well, this is just getting more and more
interesting all the time."
"Leave
it alone." McCoy winced at how
sharp his tone was with his friend--with his captain.
But
Jim didn't take offense...or tease. He
clapped McCoy softly on the arm and said, "No problem, my friend. No problem at all."
--------------------
A
soft chime on his door, a softer smile when he opened it to find Chris armed
with a padd.
"Would you be willing to read this over? I, um...I trust your opinion."
He
realized it must be her dissertation draft.
She was smiling nervously and she looked exhausted. "Up all night doing this?"
She nodded.
"I'll
read it right now."
"You
don't have to. I mean, yes, you should read
it, but whenever, you know, it's convenient."
"It's
convenient right now. I'll read if you
sleep."
She
eyed his bed, not very gracefully made, and nodded. "I'm beat."
He
was already sitting down at his desk as she made herself comfortable, and he forced
himself to call up the paper, to not look over at her. But soon, he found himself lost in her work,
and he was surprised when he heard her getting up, walking over, and sitting
down across from him.
"This
is great," he murmured, not even looking up. "Don't interrupt me; I'm at a good
part."
He
could practically hear her smile.
He
added one thing to the padd he'd pulled over to log
his comments and then handed it to her.
She
read through it, then looked at him. "That's it?"
"It's
fantastic. I have no words."
She
held up the padd he'd given her. "Well, actually, you have twenty
comments here, so you did have words.
But I expected a lot more."
"Half
of those are grammar or format things.
This is excellent work, Chris. Really."
She
took a deep breath. "Thank
you."
"Thank
you for letting me read it." He
frowned. "Does this mean you'll be
leaving the ship once you defend this?"
"No." She smiled broadly, and the expression lit up
her face. "I actually like it
here. It does mean I won't be your nurse
anymore. Spock said if he liked my
dissertation, he'd transfer me to biochem."
"Does
he?"
"Oh,
I don't know. I haven't let him read it
yet." She smiled,
a smile he couldn't read.
"You
let...me read it first?"
She
nodded.
"Why?"
"I
don't know. Because
your research was amazing. And
you found me the most incredible source in your friend--I want to meet him, by
the way."
"That
can be arranged."
"Good. So, this was my way of saying thanks, I
guess."
"Well,
you're welcome. And I'm sure Spock will
love it--in his unemotional Vulcan way, of course."
She
transferred his comments to her padd, then stood up.
"I won't be working for you if I transfer to biochem."
"Yes,
I know."
"Your
little feast was nice. Next time make it
scallops instead of shrimp."
"Next
time?"
She
nodded.
"Any
other issues with my menu choice?"
She
laughed. "I think you can be
trusted with the rest."
"Nice
to know you think I'm good for something."
"I
think you're good for a lot of things."
She leaned down and kissed his cheek.
"Thank you again, Len."
He
watched her walk out and didn't turn away until the door completely closed her
away from him.
----------------
"I
am sorry to have stolen Lieutenant Chapel from you," Spock said as he and
McCoy worked their way through the chow line.
"I'm
not. Not sorry you promoted her,
either. Well deserved."
"Her
dissertation showed a capacity for original thinking that is rare in a
human. She said some of her research was
based on your work?" Spock sounded
like he clearly didn't believe this.
"That's
right."
"Fascinating."
"Oh,
blow it out your ear." McCoy
gestured to where Uhura and Chris were sitting.
"Shall we join them?"
"If
you are sure your presence is welcome."
Just
how much had Chris been confiding in Spock, anyway?
"I'm
sure, you green-blooded..." He
laughed at Spock's expression. "She
and I have made our peace."
"I
do hope you are right. I treasure
calm."
"No
kidding?" McCoy slid into the seat
next to Chris without asking.
She
looked over and smiled at him, a real smile, sweet and open and he felt his
heart melt.
"Fascinating,"
Spock said as he took the seat next to Uhura.
"What
is?" Uhura looked at both of them
in that sternly skeptical way she had.
"Nothing,"
they both said at once, and Chris looked down, grinning.
"You
owe me a very nice shore leave, mister," Uhura stage-whispered to Spock.
"I
am aware of that." Spock did not
look upset about losing whatever bet they'd had on McCoy and Chris.
"Can
we change the subject?" Chris said, digging into a very small salad.
"You're
not eating much." McCoy put a
cookie on her tray.
She
smiled. "Saving room for that
dinner you're going to make me tonight."
"Right. Tonight." Jesus, God, it was tonight? He smiled at the other two, tried not to make
it too big a smile. "Scallops. She like scallops."
Spock
and Uhura just nodded and went back to their meals.
He
felt Chris's hand on his knee and wondered if she had any idea what she was
doing to him. Then she let go and went
back to eating.
Dinner
could not come soon enough.
---------------
"Mmmm."
Chris pushed her plate away and McCoy did, too. "Delicious, but I have to say that while
extremely tasty, the portions are a good deal smaller than the last time you
laid out a feast for me."
"Are they?" He laughed. "It's possible I didn't want us to get
overstuffed."
"And
why would that be?"
"Perhaps
because I wanted to do this. Computer, music, playlist fourteen." A soft, sweet melody began to play. He stood and held out his hand. "Lieutenant Chapel, would you do me the
honor of this dance?"
She
rose gracefully. "I like the way
you say that."
He
pulled her close, tried and failed to control his reaction to her
nearness. She wore a light, fresh
perfume. Her hair was down and looked
like silk. She'd done
her eyes and worn something sexy but not cheap. "God, Chris. You look so beautiful."
She
nestled in close. "You're not so
bad yourself, Len."
They
danced through the song, then the next one, but when the next one started, she
pulled back and studied him.
"What?"
She
smiled, leaned back a little, letting him support her. Her movement put parts of her in close
proximity to parts of him, and he forced himself not to press or grind. But she ground against him, and he yanked her
up, a growl of frustration sounding before he said between clenched teeth,
"I'm trying to be a nice guy."
"You
are a nice guy, Len. You don't have to
try." She ground against him again.
He
pulled her to him and kissed her hard, pushing her back toward the bed, eager
to show her that while he might be a nice guy, that didn't mean he didn't know
how to have fun. He had her clothes off
in record time, and she giggled, a delightfully young sound coming from her.
"Why,
Doctor McCoy. I seem to be
underdressed." She tried to remedy
that, but he pushed her onto the bed, crawled over her, and began kissing down
her body. He reached his destination,
licked and sucked and felt her tense then explode, crying out loudly.
"Oh,
holy crap." She was breathing hard, and a deep flush
covered her chest. Women could fake an
orgasm, but he had yet to meet one who could fake the post-bliss rosiness.
She
helped him out of his clothes, pulled him down on top of her, into her,
clenching and bucking as he moved. She
met his eyes, and her expression was open, pure and his and so damn sexy.
He
came as he kissed her, as he murmured, "I love you" into her hair.
"I
love you, too," she said, as she held him in place with her strong, long
legs. God damn, he loved her legs.
And
all her other parts, too.
-------------
"Doctor,
did you want this over here?" Chris
was looking unbearably sexy after a night in his arms. It was all he could do not to grab her and
kiss her, but he settled for pointing at a cabinet that had not been his
initial destination for the shipment of whatever the hell she was bringing him
from biochem, just so she'd walk by him.
As
she squeezed past, she whispered, "Amateurly
obvious, Len. But nice to know you're
not more practiced."
He'd
been married for years. He did not make
a practice out of dealing with a girlfriend.
His girlfriend--God, that sounded nice.
"So,
what's in the carton?"
"Absolutely
nothing," she said with a laugh.
"I'd recommend, to avoid the awkward and
inevitable discovery of a carton of nothing from biochem,
that we deliver it to your office."
"Let's
put that in my office."
"Okay." She did a creditable eye roll for the benefit
of anyone watching, her commentary about the vagaries of doctors in
charge. But as soon as he closed the
doors, she was in his arms. "Just
tell me I'm not keeping you from a medical crisis."
"Darlin', you're causing a medical crisis by pressing up
against me that way."
"This
way?" She was incorrigible. He'd have to stay in this office for a while
before he'd be presentable.
"Yes,
damn it, that way." He pulled back
enough that he could see her expression.
"Did you come here for something specific?"
She
eyed his desk and smiled a dreamily wicked smile.
"Well,
if you insist..." He found himself
quite adept at getting just enough uniform off both of them for this to
work. He had to hold his hand over her
mouth to muffle the noise she was making at the end.
She
returned the favor, good girlfriend that she was.
"This
will wear off," she murmured.
"I want to take advantage of you while I still feel like I'll die
if I don't see you."
"Never
let it be said you're not a ray of relationship sunshine, Chris." He kissed her gently. "We'll have more, my dear. I'll promise never to screw my lab assistant
if you promise to do the same."
She
laughed.
"And
your research is your research. Unless you get a hankering to write a joint paper."
She
touched his face. "That'd be
nice. Not an offer I'm used to."
"Well,
get used to it."
A
chime sounded at the door. McCoy backed
away from Chris and fastened his uniform, letting her slide down and do the same, then he straightened up his desk before telling
the computer to let whoever it was in.
Jim
took one look and shook his head in an exasperated way. "What is it that I'm doing wrong?"
But he was smiling at them both, and McCoy could tell he was happy for them,
even if his next words were, "Everyone's getting some but me."
Chris
didn't answer, just tried to look innocent--a look that would have worked
pretty well on her if her eyes hadn't been sparkling and her hair slightly
askew. Next time he had to remember to
fix her hair.
"You
came here for a reason, I assume, Jim."
"Not
that it's not a pleasure for him to see you anytime, sir," Chapel said.
"Right." McCoy stared up at Jim. "Did you need something?"
"My
chief medical officer. On a landing team.
One hour." Jim turned to
Chris. "If that's okay with you, I
mean."
She
smiled. "You're the captain."
"Yes,
I do still have that." He turned to
go. "Carry on, you two. Never let it be said I stood in the way of
true love."
The
door closed behind him. Chris started to
laugh. "That was awkward. But less than it might have been." She leaned down, fixed McCoy's hair. "You gave it away, Len."
He
guided her hand to her own hair follies.
"We gave it away."
She
grimaced. "Next time we'll be more
careful not to muss up the hair."
"Hell
with that. Next time we'll take the
extra second to get the hair right after we're done mussin'." He pulled her down onto his lap. "Now, where were we?"
"On
duty." But she kissed him anyway.
For
a long time. And then she left him with a promise of more
later and a smile that he realized might just be his
alone.
He'd
come to Starfleet with nothing. He was
getting a hell of a lot more than that out of it. Whistling happily, he grabbed his landing
party gear and headed off to meet Jim.
FIN